My Father's Daughter Part 1: An Angel Through the Looking-Glass
by magmavine13
Summary: this is a short story that is meant to be read as a sort of tangent off of the Supernatural TV show. It takes place just before the spot in the show where Dean, Cas, Sam and Bobby are all at Bobby's house where they bring back Adam. No Spoilers in the Story! I swear! Please enjoy.The Genre i said was supernatural because i plan on making this pretty long w/ multiple genres covered.


**An Angel: Through the Looking-Glass**

I used to love looking through to this place, everything about it used to intrigue me. I would spend hours, just sitting, staring breathlessly through the shimmering Father told me it was special, the thing i was looking through. Like me. He used to say "This, my dear, is the Nexis. Take care of this for me. You never know when you might need to take a peek through the veil."ha, 'veil' that was the nicest way to say 'cage'. At least that's how I felt about it.

I loved it at first, this pure red crystal bowl and its shimmering liquid. No matter how you tip it, it never spills. Legend has it that its actually liquid starlight. That God himself reached up and caught a ray of it and placed it in the bowl. That's a nice thought. To think that I have a tiny piece of heaven with me all the time. It's comforting. Makes me feel safe, protected, no matter what. They say stars can see everything; Good, Evil, Life, Death and everything in between. I guess that's why you can see anything you want shimmering just below the surface. Close enough to touch.

But of course I couldn't, it was just a window, nothing more. At least, that's what Father had told me. But he was either lying or wrong… And Father is never, ever wrong. He never lies either. Maybe twists the truth every now and then but he's never really lied. He used to love saying to me when i was young, that I was his only lie. I would giggle and smile, thinking it was only a play on words. A pun with my nickname, a shortened version of Lyla. But I was so wrong, it was more than that. It was this secret, one I didn't find out until it was too late. But that's a story for a different time. Right now, I've bigger things to share.

I pause at the end of typing that and look up at the tree above my head.

I think, "I wonder if Newton ended up under his tree because he ran away from home."

But I stop myself. I didn't run. Not really. I'm here on a mission. A mission from Father, to come here, to Earth. The world I had watched for so many years, centuries even. The world I had longed to be a part of, since before the trees in Europe were even big enough to drop apples on people's heads. And Father knew it. He had called for me that morning and I talked to him through my Nexis. I never met him face to face. To tell you the truth, I never even saw his face. But neither has anyone else. i whispered the enchantment and the starlight slowly took on fogginess, as if I had poured ink into it.

Father greeted me as he had since I was a little more than a young girl, with nothing more than to ask my name to be sure it was me on the other end of the line.

"Lyla." he spoke. It wasn't much of a question really, more of a command. I would pity anyone who rejected his commands.

"Yes, I'm here Father." I responded with the most polite of voices I could muster. I was angry with him. Angry because he treated me the way he did. Sure, I was better off then some of the others. at least, as far as I knew. I hadn't left that room I was in for as long as i could remember. However, I knew I was one of his favorites, if my father could ever really care, but I still felt caged.

I chuckle as the breeze blows past me, sitting in the shade of the oak I'm under. That was a good line. It's almost too perfect of a simile. I really do feel like a bird in a cage, and my velvety wings almost make it just too much. I rustle them a bit, just to feel them actually open. I never got to really spread them when I was home. There wasn't enough room. I startle as I hear a young jogger gasp as she goes past. I know she can't see them, given the glamour I'm using to conceal myself among the humans, but I know I accidentally brushed her shoulder with one. The endorphins rushing through her would be too noticeable if she hadn't already been running this whole time. I quickly pull my wings back in and lean back against the tree. I re-adjust my laptop as I pull my knees up and rest the shiny black contraption on them. "This really is a neat little thing," I think as I start back in on my writing, "Where was I? Oh, right. Talking to Dad."

"I am fully aware of your attraction to the human world. I am not pleased…"

I interrupted my father for the first time in my life. "No father. I'm sorry. But I can't help it. You-"and I would have told him that it was his fault for giving me the Nexis in the first place but he spoke over me, in a voice so deep and strong, even as angry as I was, I couldn't help but snap my mouth shut.

His voice was so powerful through the Nexis that the thick elixir rippled violently. "Quiet!" he commanded. The candles that surrounded me flickered. "You dare-"but then he stopped. Silence flooded my eardrums for what seemed like an eternity, even thought it was only about a minute, as Father took a deep breath and started again.

"As I was saying, I am not pleased…" I waited silently, trembling slightly. "However, I believe you are mature enough now to take on the mission that was prepared for you on the night that you were created. Child, it is time that I send you through to Earth."

I couldn't help but let out a tiny gasp. "Father...?"

But he was gone. The murkiness that had clouded the starlight to conceal him dissipated quickly leaving the crystal clear liquid completely free of anything once more. I stared blankly into the shining bowl for a few more minutes, not a single thought in my mind. When the clock in my brain once again began to tick it was clanking in such a frenzy of thoughts I immediately got a horrid headache. But I could care less! I was going to the human world! The one thing I had always wanted was finally happening! But then the logical part of me had to go and shove its reason into my happy moment.

What was the likelihood of Father letting me free out of the goodness of his heart? Exactly zero percent, now I'm not that good at math but I think that's pretty damn low. My heart dropped straight down into my stomach. He's never asked anything of me before. And what was this mission he was sending me on? I had absolutely no clue. But then again, did I actually care all that much? No matter his reasoning, no matter what his goal is and why after being gone for so long he suddenly called for me and gave me my freedom on a platter. As long as I did as he said until I was out, I could be free. And that was worth more to me than knowing why. But I'm sure I will find out soon enough.

"Finished." I whisper to myself. Then I add, "Well, at least for now."

I smile as a pigeon flies by and I chuck a pebble at it. "Rotten little things." I say. I used to watch them and think they were so wonderful. I would watch these elderly people sit and toss bread crumbs at them while they munched contentedly. However, I tried it once and the damn things attacked me! I dropped the loaf of white bread I was holding and took off into the air with my wings. I spun and twirled in the sky until finally the little buggers quit following. It took a moment of hovering, flapping softly before I remembered I wasn't invisible at the moment.

I immediately chanted the short Enochian spell I had learned for hiding among humans. "Ramulus tages merculus sight" and I felt my skin tingle slightly as I slowly drifted out of the sight of anyone who might have seen. I sighed. "I officially HATE pigeons," I decided.

Sitting here, I watch as the pigeon dodges the pebble I threw. He spins into the air and heads over towards the awning over the picnic tables to my right. "Must be where his little nest is." I think. As much as some may think, I'm not a stoic person, far from it as a matter of fact. The thought of baby pigeons, even with my new hatred of the pestering species, makes me smile, just the tiniest bit.

Just beyond the picnic setting I can see the sky beginning to turn a multitude of purples, reds and oranges. I sigh blissfully. Even after the 3 months that I had been up on Earth the sunsets still amazed me. Every night for 3 lonely months I have watched the dusk turn to night. Three months from when I woke up in the body of some poor comatose girl who had been under for more than 15 years, since she got hit with that car on her 7th birthday.

Father had sent me a message when I woke up in her body. She had been in heaven since the accident, as far as he knew, though he couldn't really check. And the doctor (one of ours) had kept her body alive so that I could use it when the time came. I like it. She would have turned out quite beautiful. She had long waving black hair and these sharp emerald green eyes with these tiny flecks of white-blue in the iris. Her name was Cyrene or something like that. I thank her every morning for lending it to me.

Of course I had to do a few enhancements. Soon as I signed myself out of the hospital, duffle full of money, clothes and weapons thrown across my shoulder and my little velvet pouch on my waist. I went straight for the store. The clothes that were packed were quite horrendous, little pink and white dresses and some frilly skirts. No, these definitely would not work. I bought myself some shirts and some of those jeans I had seen girls wearing. Then, I walked across the street to the motel. The desk man was another of ours.

"Wow, Dad was prepared wasn't he? Making sure I got to this side okay?" I said to the man, sarcasm dripping from my throat. i should have known he wouldn't have reacted.

"Room A12, ma'am. And when you are done in there your ride is in the 3rd parking spot from the right on the south side of the lot." Then, he handed me a room key and what looked like keys to some sort of vehicle. I was tempted to just go straight to the car and get as far away from my Father's minions as I possibly could as fast as I possibly could. But as I turned, I looked at myself in the mirror hung on the wall. No, wasn't happening. I had to fix this, these clothes, this hair. No, I definitely had to change first.

I unlocked the door to room A12 and stepped in. I flipped on the light and dashed for the bathroom. Soon as I was through the door to the restroom I lurched forward and almost hit my head on the toilet as I fell to my knees. I jerked and coughed as my stomach emptied itself into the white porcelain seat.

Dad didn't bother to tell me that throwing a soul, especially one like mine, into a body that's been empty for 15 years, might be a bit of a shock to its system. I stood and drank some water from the sink. I shuttered. Then I pushed my hair back from my face. I stopped and stared for a moment, "You're out," I whispered to myself. "You're really out. Feel like shit but better then you've ever felt in your life." Then I smiled a sad smile at the girl in the mirror.

I went back to the duffle, flipped it upside down, and dumped its contents onto the mattress. " Hmm," I murmured. "This looks good." I picked up a sheathed and fairly long dagger. I ran my finger over the shining silver-gray edge and then licked the blood off my finger. Didn't even feel a thing. I took the old mahogany handled dagger with me into the bathroom and when I came out my hair was washed, cut and had a couple splashes of blue and purple in it from the tubes of hair color I had gotten from the store.

Standing there in just a towel, I opened the bags that I had gotten from the store. I searched through the clothes and pulled out a midnight blue tank top with the words 'I Bite' written across the chest. I liked this one. Then, I reached in and pulled out some pitch black jeans that were quite wide around the ankles. One side had some sort of reddish sparkle winding up from the ground and around the leg. I dressed myself and relished in the feel of my wings no longer being bound to my back. They fit perfectly between the two straps of the tank. even though the glamour i had mad them less the tangible i could still sort of feel them there. I pulled on some high black boots and stuffed my things back into my duffle. Pausing half way through zipping it up I reached in and pulled out the dagger and attached it to my belt.

"Probably going to need that." I told myself as I re-zipped the bag. I snatched up my new black leather jacket and threw it over one shoulder. Then, I locked up the room and started for the parking lot. I counted, 1, 2, 3 spots over from the right and froze. A beautiful, black Harley Davidson motorcycle was sitting there calling my name and sparkling in the twilight. I shoved my duffle into the case on the back and walked around the bike slowly. She was amazing, but she was missing a bit of decoration.

I pulled my small red velvet bag out of my pocket and poured a smidgen of sparkling black powder into my hand. "Just a little." I told myself. "Need to save this in case of an emergency. " I put my hand up to my mouth and blew a short gust of breath into it. The powder scattered into the air and fell silently onto the bike. As if it was getting painted in fast-forward, blue ghost flames shot across the gas tank and depictions of shockingly gorgeous bird winged girls danced along the surfaces.

I see her again as I walk to the road now. With my laptop under one arm and jacket in the other, I smile at my ride waiting for me under the streetlight. I open the small, locked side compartment and put in my tiny black computer. Just as I start to throw my leg over my Harley I look up to a voice I hear from the other side of the street.

"What Dean? ... No, I don't know where you are. That would be why I'm calling… Yes I'm in South Dakota. You're at Bobby's? … Okay. I'll head over now." He's saying. And then he slips his phone into the left pocket of his trench coat. I can't help but stare. Standing there under the streetlight his chiseled jaw stands out even more then it would in the day. He has this short hair that for some reason i get the strange urge to run my fingers through and these sad eyes that even from here I can tell are the most wonderful shade of blue… and they are also locked with my own.

I jump slightly at the recognition that he is staring straight into my eyes. I freeze. He, on the other hand, does the opposite. He takes a step forward, just one, but it's enough for me to notice his shadow. Its like any other shadow, except for what is just behind him. I know exactly what makes that kind of shadow. Wings. I had seen the same shadow every time i turned my head,. Just like mine, but how? Father never told me that he had made another. He said I could only be made from love which rarely happens where I come from. Father had to find a woman who truly loved him, and then drain her blood and mix it with his own. He said that I was one of a kind. Angels and demons can't have a child of their own, so Father searched and searched for a way to make a half-born of each. He found a single spell, one where he needed the blood of a demon broken by love mixed with his own. My mother had fallen for him and she had given herself willingly.

He said that after creating me he had felt so weakened by the loss of blood he swore never to do it again. But he was happy. He now had a sweet little girl with pitch black wings and the power of both a demon and an angel. One of the most powerful angels, Lucifer himself. My father fell from heaven and now he had done what he could. But he had also burned the parchment with the spell immediately after my creation. So what was this thing I was looking at?

Then I blinked, I notice the man's wings beneath his glamour. Just for a second. They were shining white! Brilliant really, almost mesmerizing But I blinked again and he was gone. I realize I have been holding my breath. I let it out in one big gust. Who was this man? and more importantly, Who was I? Did the devil lie **twice**? Once about his daughter and once to her face?


End file.
